


Cheesy daydreams

by moosetashioedmonocle



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosetashioedmonocle/pseuds/moosetashioedmonocle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even on Chorus, people celebrate a day of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheesy daydreams

**Author's Note:**

> It's valentine's day, I'm feeling sentimental. Not my best, I know, this one is just a fun one for the holiday!

Every year it was the same with you two.  
You’d both forget it was Valentine’s. Simmons would say just you forgot, but you knew he forgot what day it was too. You’d both be told by Caboose, who’d be crying over Church not loving him.  
After that, Simmons would just be quiet. You knew it was because he was both angry at himself for not knowing what day it was and angry at you for not doing anything romantic.  
It’s not like you are required to do anything romantic, really. It doesn’t really fit in with what the two of you call your relationship. You two are more codependent than romantic.  
This year, however, was your chance to blow him.  
Away.  
You overheard Smith talking about some “Love song day” and asked Bitters if he knew what it was. It was Matthews that told you when Bitters just said “it’s fucking bullshit”.  
“It’s the day of love! Here on chorus, a lot of holidays involve music-it’s something our race has prided itself on! Usually on love song day, people-” you stopped listening. You didn’t need to listen to chorus tradition, you knew there was only one thing left to do.  
You were going to actually do something for Simmons for Valentine’s day.  
You paid off Donut with the promise to do something with him later-you realize that maybe you should have not agreed to it without knowing what it was. Donut is the best chef you know, it’ll totally be worth the delicious, scrumptious treats he whips up. You didn’t have to pay off the lieutenants, you only had to order them around in the best Sarge voice you could do. You even paid off Tucker by calling in a favor he owes you. You know what you did to earn that, Grif.  
Everything is going to be absolutely perfect. You’re finally going to do the whole valentine’s thing right, and Simmons is going to be so happy that he’s just going to fling himself at you. The only way your mental image could be any more perfect would be Sarge accidentally wandering into a teleportation cube that sent him to the other end of the planet so he wouldn’t be here to bother you.  
You imagine how it would go, over and over, so much so that you almost miss when he walks in.  
“Grif? What the fuck is all this?” is what Simmons actually says when you hold out a plate full of Donut’s cooking and a bottle of expensive wine. God bless Tucker.  
“Don’t tell me you don’t know what day it is.”  
“It’s…Saturday?” Simmons has no idea. This is perfect.  
“Simmons, I can’t believe this! How do you not know it’s valentine’s day?”  
“Because it isn’t! In earth time, it’s June!”  
“But we aren’t on earth, Simmons. We’re on chorus.”  
“That doesn’t mean it’s suddenly valentines!”  
“Actually, it is…Valentine’s day. We don’t call it that, though.” Your secret weapon pops in. You are a bit pissed that you had to hire all four of them if only one is going to happen to “walk by” and toss some information about Chorus at the know-it-all. You remember that you aren’t paying them, and the thought makes you smile.  
“Wait-it actually is Valentine’s day?” His voice shrinks into his armor, and you wish you could see his adorable flustered face as he realizes what is actually happening.  
You push the plate and wine at him again. He stands in complete silence for a moment.  
“Be mine, Valentine?” you ask. You’re only half teasing.  
“I didn’t get you anything.” Simmons says quietly, looking between you and the gifts you have brought.  
“I know something you can give me.” You’re really only partially joking. Not even half.  
“If you say “your heart” I’m going to punch you.”  
“If you’re going to be like this, I think I’ll just keep the cookies. Can’t let Donut’s good work go to waste.” You pop your helmet and push it up so it rests on your head. You start to eat a cookie, just for emphasis. Simmons is probably fuming beneath that armor. You chew as loudly as you can, staring right into where his eyes would be.  
“What can I give you?” he asks through grated teeth, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“You.” You get in one cheesy grin before he decks you-on the side, thank goodness, because without your helmet on you wouldn’t stand a chance against his left hook. As it stands, you can recover from his fake-punch quickly.  
What happens next isn’t something you quite expected.  
He pushes his way in between the plate of cookies and the bottle of wine, and suddenly his lithe body is wrapped around you in a hug. You try to wrap your arms back to the best of your ability, but your hands are a little full at the moment, so you can’t.  
He pulls back, just a little bit. Somehow, he’s clicked his helmet off behind you, and has it tipped up onto his head like you have yours. He looks fucking stupid like that.  
He smiles. Just barely, just the tip of his lips turns up. It’s almost a smirk the way he does it.  
You smile. Your smile is toothy and wide, but not fake in any way.  
You’re still smiling when he grabs onto your chestplate and yanks you forward.  
You’re still smiling when he presses his smile to yours.  
You’d still smile if you weren’t kissing.  
Both of you are bad at kissing. You know this already. But this kiss doesn’t feel bad at all. It’s sweet, tender, and a bit on the cheesy side.  
“Fucking finally!” Tucker yells from the background. The two of you break off, and your toothy smile returns. He reciprocates with a toothy smile.  
“Get a room, you two!” Donut adds in. You raise your eyebrows at Simmons twice in quick succession, and he nods. He pops his helmet back on and steals the bottle of wine from you.  
“Meet me at nap space twelve in fifteen minutes.” He tells you before waltzing away with the expensive wine you had Tucker get for you. You only mind a little bit.

You’d mind more if you weren’t currently drinking that wine with your favorite nerd, snuggling into his side as he played with your hair and mused about the universe. You’d mind more, maybe, if you weren’t stuffed with delicious cookies but still so hungry for Simmons’s kisses.  
You’d mind more if you weren’t so drunk off love right now.  
Simmons doesn’t mind. Neither of you mind, and that’s okay. It’s more than okay.  
You wish every valentine’s day would go like this one.


End file.
